E Pluribus Duum
by Prophet-Z
Summary: Since there aren't enough AU high-school HD fics in the world (yeah, right), I decided to write my own, removing some of the clichés and other bad things from other fics in this genre. R for language now and slash in future chapters. RR please!
1. Many Meetings

All right, I thought there were just too few AU H/D fics out there (yeah, right), so I decided to write my own...not that the wolrld needs any more or anything. It's probably really clichŽd and everything, but I couldn't help it. I tried to remove from this fic all of the annoying things that pervade this type of AU fanfiction. I hope you enjoy!!  
  
Disclaimer: If you've gotten this far, you already know what this says (or, you should). But just for consistency's sake, I'll say it anyway. I don't own any of the characters in this story. They are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling, and I'm borrowing them for a bit of fun (*cackle cackle*). I don't care if you flame this because you don't like the fic, but if you flame it for being slash, that's just stupid, because we're not going to stop writing it, such just save your time. Anyway...  
  
E Pluribus Duum ("Out of Many, Two") by AnonymousBystander  
  
Chapter 1 - Many Meetings  
  
"Bye Harry! Good luck!"  
  
"Yeah, bye Sirius, see you."  
  
Harry Potter reluctantly pulled himself out of the dark green Subaru and pulled his backpack out after him, heaving its weight onto his shoulders. He turned around and watched as his godfather and the Subaru pulled out of the parking lot and disappeared into the traffic with all of the other cars, becoming an insignificant speck in a traffic analyzer's charts.  
  
Harry sighed, and turned slowly to look up at Angleman Hall, the main building of Hogwarts High school. Glancing for what seemed to be the one hundreth time at the tiny slip of paper in his hand, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Albus Dumbledore, A-144" read the message on the paper. Harry navigated his way out of the receptionists' room to the Dumbledore's office - that was easy enough, he thought vaguely, his hand resting on the cold handle of the office door.  
  
"You can come in, Harry," said a warm voice suddenly from inside the room, "nobody's going to bite you." Harry laughed, slightly, then the voice added, "I should hope."  
  
Encouraged, Harry pushed the handle down and entered the room, which he immediately saw was occupied by four people. The first, and most conspicuous, was who Harry assumed to be Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school. Anywhere else, Harry thought, this man would look hideously out of place, with his long, flowing silver beard and mustache, but he looked right at home in the cheerful office, a fire crackling behind the large oak desk that dominated the room.  
  
Harry glanced around. The next person he saw was a tall, lanky redheaded boy who was standing next to Dumbledore's desk. He had a nametag, and the name "Ron" was scrawled accross it in marker. Next, Harry saw a short, bushy-haired girl, sitting in one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. Somebody else was in the room, too. Harry did a double take. Sitting in one of the other chairs was a gorgeous blonde. Harry tried not to stare for too long, but the boy was mesmerizing to look at.  
  
"Please sit down, Harry," said Dumbledore, gesturing towards the only remaining chair in the room, between the blonde boy and the bushy-haired girl. Harry took the seat and greeted both of the people next to him. The blonde boy said hello back, but the girl just blushed and muttered something incoherent to Harry. Ron, however, laughed out loud.  
  
"I'm very sorry," said Dumbledore at last, "that I have to clump you all together like this. Every year I resolve that I will meet with all of the new students individually, but it seems that every year I forget how hectic the first day of school can be, so I appologize. It's nothing personal, I assure you.  
  
"Anyway, enough with that. Welcome to Hogwarts! I hope you have a wonderful time here. This is Ron Weasley, your guide for today. Since the three of you," he gestured towards Harry, the blonde, and the bushy-haired girl, "are all going into eleventh grade, Ron was a suitable guide, being in eleventh grade with you. I trust you'll all have a great time together. Now go! Go, and multiply!"  
  
All five of the people in the room laughed, though Harry noticed that he, the blonde boy, and the bushy-haired girl all laughed very nervously. And not without reason, he supposed.  
  
But walking out of the room, Ron chattering merrily to the three newcomers about Hogwarts High School, Harry realized that he really didn't have anything to be nervous about.  
  
**  
  
A/N: Well, what do you think? Should I continue writing it? I made the first chapter short on purpose so I can find out whether it's worth continuing. Please review! 


	2. Friendships Forged, Confessions Made

I thank everybody (all four of you) who reviewed!  
  
Rowenna: Where are there technical errors? I'd like to correct them.  
  
Here's another chapter, and if you don't like it, I won't continue to write...  
  
E Pluribus Duum ("Out of Many, Two") by AnonymousBystander  
  
Chapter 2 - Friendships Forged, Confessions Made  
  
Harry pushed Ron's chattering out of his mind as he walked, slightly removed from the other three people, sorting his thoughts out. He knew it was good that he was in a new school, that he had moved away from Surrey. It would be better for him, to leave everything behind, to start a new life. He knew it was easier for Sirius too.  
  
A hand touched his shoulder for a brief moment before dissappearing. Harry turned his head to see that the gorgeous blonde had drifted away from Ron and the bushy-haired girl and was now walking beside him.  
  
"Hi," said the blonde, "what are you thinking about?"  
  
"What?" said Harry, taken aback.  
  
"Nothing..." the blonde boy said, trailing away, "it just looked like you were lost in thought or something." Harry looked away, and didn't respond. "I'm Draco Malfoy. What's your name?"  
  
Harry paused, just for a moment. "Harry Potter."  
  
Draco held out his hand, and Harry shook it. "Nice to meet you."  
  
For a moment, there was silence, as the two walked next to each other. Then Ron said, "Oi, Harry, Draco, we'll be late!"  
  
Harry and Draco quickly caught up with the other two. The bushy haired girl turned towards them and smiled fleetingly. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said.  
  
Before Harry could respond, Ron cut in. "Dumbledore's worked it out so we all have our first class of the day together, but after that, you're all on your own. Everyone OK? Great...it's time to experience the horror that is Mr. Snape's chemistry class. All aboard!"  
  
Harry laughed as Ron held the door open for them to walk through. The classroom was nice, with a large chalk board and rows of desks. The teacher, Harry noticed immediately, did not look so nice. He had shoulder-length, greasy dark hair and thin slits for eyes. Harry could tell immediately that he would not like this teacher.  
  
"Who are you?" said Mr. Snape immediately, noticing Harry walking in. Then he saw Draco and Hermione, and said, with a look of utmost disgust at the prospect of any new students, "Oh. Very well. Take your seats, please, we're going to get started, and I don't want any new students to slow down this class...not that we're going to get anywhere anyway, with the rate things are going this year..."  
  
Yes, Harry did not like Mr. Snape at all, but his other teachers weren't all that bad. Mr. Binns, the history teacher, was boring as hell, but Mrs. McGonogall, the math teacher, was nice, though very strict. Ms. Trelawny was Harry's completely rediculous looking English teacher, who introduced their first book "A Chronicle of a Death Foretold" with mistiness and a frighteningly buggish air.  
  
Harry met Ron, Hermione, and Draco for lunch, and was introduced to all of Ron's friends. They were a nice group of people, Harry could tell at once, but he knew that there were some people at this school that weren't so nice. Ron pointed them out as they left lunch to go to Latin. They were a mean looking bunch.  
  
"Those are the ringleaders," Ron whispered to the three newcomers as they passed the group of people, "Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. Bloody idiots if there ever were any. You'll want to watch out for them."  
  
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Harry was exceedingly happy to have made friends on his first day, and was certain that this would be better than his old school...  
  
**Flashback**  
  
"Fag!"  
  
Harry couldn't see, breathe, think. Fists, punches, kicks, pouring in on him in an overwhelming bombardment of pain.  
  
But he shut it out. He was good at it now. He could do it easily; he'd done it before. When he'd first come out, when his parents had died, he became numb, a shell with no feelings or emotions. It was all bottled up deep inside of him, waiting, just waiting for one day when it would become too much and it would all come out in one explosion.  
  
"Die, Faggot! Rot in hell!"  
  
He couldn't feel them anymore, they were gone, they were nothing.  
  
Harry blacked out.  
  
*****End Flashback*****  
  
"Harry! Harry!"  
  
Harry blinked himself out of his musings. It was Draco, who was looking concerned and waving his hand in front of Harry's face.  
  
"What? What?" was all that Harry could manage, startled from being ripped from his thoughts.  
  
"I was asking you if you wanted a ride. Are you all right, mate?"  
  
"What? Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. No thanks, I can walk. But thanks anyway. I appreciate it."  
  
"Are you sure?" Draco persisted. "You don't look well."  
  
"I'm fine, I promise. See you tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah, okay. See you."  
  
Harry hoisted his backpack onto his back and walked away from the building, still halfway caught in his thoughts. He mused all the way back to his new house, which was a short walk from the school.  
  
Upon entering the house, Harry dropped his backpack onto the floor at once and collapsed onto the sofa in the living room. It had been a good start at his new school, he knew, and he had friends, which was great, but it had still been a long and trying day, and he was tired.  
  
"Hey, Harry."  
  
It was Sirius. Harry looked up for a moment, but was too lazy to keep his head up, so he spoke into the sofa cushion.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" he inquired half-heartedly. Sirius worked as a graphic designer in a small firm not far away.  
  
"I thought I'd come home early and meet my favorite godson after school," Sirius replied, sitting on the couch.  
  
"You're sucking up to me," Harry joked, turning himself around to lie on his back, "what do you want this time?"  
  
"Very funny, Harry," said Sirius, chuckling. "How was school?"  
  
"It was fine. I made friends. It's good."  
  
"Any cute guys?" said Sirius, feeling mischevious.  
  
"Shouldn't you be asking if there are any cute godfathers?"  
  
"Well, fine, any cute godfathers?" Sirius replied, playing along.  
  
"Sirius! That kind of talk is blasphemous!" Harry joked.  
  
"Oh please, you brought me into it. Besides, Remus isn't here."  
  
"Getting lonely there?" Harry said mischeviously.  
  
"He'll move his stuff in here tomorrow. You know that he had to finish with some last minute arrangements with...with..." Sirius trailed off, looking away from Harry.  
  
"Oh please, Sirius. You can say it, for god's sake. I'm sixteen years old. I can handle it. They're dead, Sirius, they're dead, and they're not coming back, and I can deal with it."  
  
"Harry," said Sirius, looking back at him, "you're very strong. It's hard to believe that you're handling this as well as you are. Thank you."  
  
"Now, good godfather, I have some homework to do," said Harry, trying desperately to change the subject.  
  
Sirius stood up, yawning like a wolf and stretching. "Dinner at seven thiry, Harry," he said, before disappearing.  
  
The phone rang. Deciding that he would let Sirius get it, Harry opened his backpack and started to get to work, but was interrupted when Sirius popped his head back into the room.  
  
"Phone, kiddo," he said jovially, his head vanishing back into the other room.  
  
Harry grabbed the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Harry, it's Ron," said the voice on the other end of the phone.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"Hermione, Draco, and me--"  
  
"--and I," Harry cut in.  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Ron said dismissively. "We're going to the mall to celebrate the first day of school. Neville and Dean are coming too, but Seamus can't make it. What'dya say?"  
  
"What about homework?" said Harry.  
  
"Screw that!" Ron exclaimed indignantly. "Come on!"  
  
"Well, OK," said Harry, somewhat reluctantly, "but I'll have to ask my godfather."  
  
"Sure," responded Ron.  
  
****  
  
Sirius, after some persuasion, finally agreed, and not ten minutes later, Harry was sitting on his front porch, waiting for the others to arrive. Harry felt fortunate to have friends - especially Draco - especially since his experiences at his old school had been so bad.  
  
A car pulled up. It was Ron, driving his red Volvo station wagon. Hermione sat next to him in the front, with Draco in the back. Harry got in, glancing quickly at the blonde next to him before looking ahead.  
  
As they drew close to the mall, Ron explained that they were going to meet Neville and Dean there for dinner to commemorate the new school year and their new friendships.  
  
Sitting at the booth at some cheap diner, laughing and talking with his new friends, Harry felt a sudden urge to tell them about his sexual preferences. He felt that he was lying to them in not telling them what was going on. He had never really wanted to tell anybody that much. It was odd.  
  
"Guys," he said nevously, quieting them. "Er - I have something to tell you." Nobody spoke for a moment, then, "I'm gay."  
  
There was silence, silence so palpable Harry wanted to scream at himself for telling them, but then, all of a sudden, Ron started to crack up, laughing hysterically. Dean and Neville soon joined him, and soon the entire table was guffawing intensly, except for Harry, who sat there, confused and bewildered, trying to figure out what on earth was going on.  
  
"Harry," choked Ron, attempting to hold back peals of laughter, "Who cares? Why are you making such a big deal?"  
  
"What?" was Harry's only reaction, still flummoxed.  
  
"So is Seamus!" said Dean, getting control of himself. "We don't care that much. You're making such a big deal out of it."  
  
"I - I still don't understand," Harry said.  
  
"We don't care who you fancy, mate!" said Ron, finally stopping his laughter. "It doesn't matter."  
  
That made Harry feel quite excellent.  
  
****  
  
"Sirius, I'm home!"  
  
Harry pulled the door closed behind him, calling out into the house. Before he could get anything else, somebody tackled him to the floor, pinning him down.  
  
"Remus!"  
  
"Hiya Harry! How are you doing?"  
  
"Still acting like a child, are we, Remus, my friend?" Harry said, laughing at his Godfather's boyfriend.  
  
"Harry! I'm insulted! I'm certainly older than a child!" exclaimed Remus indignantly.  
  
"Maybe on the outside," said Sirius' voice as he entered the room from the kitchen. "Get off of him, Remus, you're smothering him to death."  
  
"But I don't want to!" called Remus, still squashing Harry on the floor.  
  
"Wouldn't you rather tackle somebody else, my love?" said Sirius suggestively, holding out his hand, which Remus eagerly accepted. As Remus' weight was pulled off of Harry, he stood up, brushing himself off.  
  
"How was dinner, Harry?" said Remus.  
  
"Fine," said Harry, recovering from Remus' exuberance.  
  
"You told them, didn't you, Harry?" said Sirius, looking concernedly at his godson.  
  
Harry stared at Sirius for a moment, then said, "There's something really freakish about you, you know that?"  
  
"Ah, Harry," said Sirius boistrously, "my magical Gaydar extends far past the ability to detect somebody's sexual preferences. I assume the results were good, then."  
  
"Yes," Harry said proudly, "yes, they were."  
  
"Excellent, my boy," said Remus, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Let's have a drink to celebrate!"  
  
Harry, who could never tell when Remus was joking or when he was completely serious (AN: pardon the pun), pushed Remus' arm away, muttering that he had to do homework, and took the stairs three at a time to his room. It had been an excellent first day.  
  
****  
  
A/N: Please tell me what you think! 


	3. Broken Present, Broken Past

Another chapter...if anybody's actually paying attention. Sorry this is late; I tried to get it out before the holiday, but we went away before I could finish it.  
  
Rowenna: I thank you very much for your invaluble comments...I like it more when somebody's telling me how I can make my writing better than just saying how great it is. With the coming out part, I thought that Harry felt like he had to be perfectly honest with these people. Maybe it wasn't clear enough; I know it's very OOC, but then again, this is an AU fic, so some things are different. Regarding what Draco thinks of Harry, I was considering greatly putting it in that chapter, but I really wanted to wait until this one, where we see more of Draco's situation. You'll get some of that now, along with more information on Harry's past.  
  
SailorBaby16: It's coming soon, and you'll find out in this chapter.  
  
E Pluribus Duum by Anonymous Bystander  
  
Chapter 3 - Broken Present, Broken Past  
  
"And just where have you been?"  
  
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Draco had tried to shut the door quietly, had even taken the back stairs so as not to pass his father's study, but his father found him. Yes, Lucius Malfoy saw everything.  
  
"Say something, boy! I haven't got all day to stand around and chatter! Now I want an explaination, and I want it now."  
  
Draco muttered something, then shook his head, and held it up high. "I went to dinner at the mall with my friends, sir," he said in a loud, clear voice.  
  
"And what about homework, my dear Draco," hissed the older Malfoy, his voice laden with malevolence.  
  
"I - I thought that...well, since it's the first day of school..." Draco trailed off hopefully.  
  
His father paused, considering. "Never again, Draco," he whispered icily. "Never."  
  
Lucius Malfoy began to stalk away, head held high.  
  
"Why can't you be like all of the other fathers?!" Draco blurted out. Shit, double shit. He regretted it the moment the words escaped his lips. The elder Malfoy turned slowly on his heel, his eyes wide with rage.  
  
"What?" Draco hated the way his father said that. Like he resented Draco's very existence.  
  
But Draco knew he couldn't back down now. He couldn't now that he'd started this. Fuck, god dammit. "Everybody else's dads are nice. They don't yell at their sons every five minutes. They say things to their sons other than 'Where have you been' and 'Your grades aren't good enough'. It's not fair. I don't want you, I want somebody else!"  
  
Smack!  
  
The ridiculous staff that Lucius always carried slammed against Draco's jawbone. Draco fell to the floor, seeing spots, pain searing through his head. He opened his mouth once or twice. The pain was white-hot, searing, but his jaw was not broken.  
  
"One day, Draco, not long from now," Lucius hissed, "you will learn to respect me." Glancing back at the weakened boy on the floor, he added, "Or else..."  
  
****  
  
When Harry arrived at school the next morning, it already felt like he'd been there for months. This place felt like home more than his old school ever had. It just felt so odd...eccentric headmaster, overly enthusiastic friends, overly hyper godfather with his barking mad boyfriend...Harry almost felt happy. Almost. Something was missing, of course. Something was always missing. There was an empty well inside of him, a shard of metal, digging deep, always moving downward where it couldn't be seen, but it was always felt, its pain more and more excruciating as it became more invisible to the outside eye.  
  
Harry pushed on. He hid from the pain, made himself numb to it. It was aided by abuse because of his homosexuality, which he didn't like hiding from people. It was part of him, he knew, and something that important shouldn't stay hidden.  
  
Of course, he was lucky to have Sirius and Remus, they were constant guides, protectors, leaders, and father-figures. Together, the three of them had gotten through his parents' deaths, and they lived on. The three had formed a team; each one could function only with the other two, and they worked and lived in perfect harmony. They all felt pain, and together, they could handle it.  
  
"Heya," said Draco as he approached Harry, having spotted him accross the school campus, "No ride today?"  
  
"No," replied Harry, happy to have somebody with which to make good-natured conversation. "My godfather had to go to work early."  
  
"Hmm..." said Draco.  
  
There was silence for a few moments, then Harry noticed that Draco's jaw was slightly swollen, and Draco was wincing every time he opened his mouth. "Are you all right?" Harry inquired concernedly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your jaw...are you okay?" Harry asked again.  
  
"Oh, um..." Draco stuttered. "I - I tripped, and hit my jaw..."  
  
Harry paused for a moment. That was the worst lie he'd ever heard in his life. "It's all right," he said to Draco, stopping to sit on a bench outside of one of the buildings, "you can tell me."  
  
"Tell you what?!" said Draco, suddenly feeling agressive. Normally, he would have been glad that such a good-looking boy, now his friend, was concerned about his well-being, but this was a touchy matter.  
  
Taken aback, Harry muttered, "Never mind." If Draco didn't want to talk about whatever had caused his injury, Harry wasn't going to force him to.  
  
There was an awkward silence in which both boys cast around for a new subject for their conversation. Draco found it. "Where are your parents?"  
  
"What?" said Harry, immediately defensive.  
  
"You said you live with your godfather. Where are you parents?"  
  
Oh shit, thought Harry. This always comes up, doesn't it. It always has to. They always have to ask.  
  
"They're dead."  
  
Another uncaring, falsely pitying appology, thought Harry. That's what's coming.  
  
"I'm so sorry," fumbled Draco. "I didn't mean to-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," said Harry. "I don't want pity. Just drop it."  
  
"If it's any consolation, my dad's a complete prick, and I hardly ever see my mom."  
  
"Wow, big whoop," said Harry, becoming more and more irritated. "At least they're alive...so, that's how you got hurt, is it?" Yes, changing the subject was good.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You said that your father was a complete prick," said Harry. "I deduced that he was the one who hurt you."  
  
"Yes, OK? Yes. Look, I don't want to talk about this."  
  
"Ahhh..." said Harry in a feaux-whistful voice, laughing ironically, "the screwed up lives of teenage guys...how wonderful!"  
  
"How about this," said Draco, a sudden idea clicking inside his head, "you obviously aren't ready to talk about your parents to me, and I don't want to talk about mine to you. How about I take you out to dinner saturday night and we can talk about it."  
  
Harry paused, very surprised but trying to hide it. He most certainly was not expecting that. "Are you asking me out on a date?" was the first thing that came to mind, and he blurted it out. Stupid! Quoting from a movie?! Stupid!  
  
It was Draco's turn to pause. "Would you like me to be?"  
  
Harry's spirits lifted slightly. That was a good answer. Maybe he'd leave this conversation with a date. Now, he needed just the right thing to say... "Would you like it if I did?" Argh! Not only was that stupid and incredibly clichŽd, it was also confusing! Harry very nearly hit himself. There was no way Draco, whom Harry didn't even know was gay (or even if he was) would want to go out with him after that. Everything was so confusing, and Harry couldn't think of any answer that Draco could give that would simplify things.  
  
But Draco came up with one. "Yes," he said, then walked away, a huge grin on his face.  
  
*****  
  
He'd done it. He'd gotten a date with Harry. Perfect! Harry, apart from being very attractive, was a cipher to Draco, and it was one that he was eager to try and decrypt. Already he'd begun, but Draco knew that the death of Harry's parents was only the tip of the iceberg.  
  
In the meantime, however, Draco had schoolwork to do. He had gotten lost in his social life, and his homework - and his father - were catching up with him. Sighing in frustration the day after he'd gotten his date with Harry, Draco sat at his desk, trying to decipher the day's new type of math problem, which he knew he'd forget in a second and never need to use anyway.  
  
There was a knock on the door, but before Draco could answer, his father pushed the door open and swept into the room. His father had a tendency to sweep into rooms, whether or not the occasion required or even suggested sweeping. It made Draco sick, watching him be so fake.  
  
"Draco," Lucius said, talking as usual as though Draco was of little concern, "we have a guest. He'll be staying here for a couple of days before he can get his own place to live. You're to treat him with respect, and you will not ask questions. Is this clear?"  
  
"Yes, father," was Draco's obedient reply. The elder Malfoy turned to leave, but Draco spoke again. "By what name should I call our ... guest?"  
  
Lucius turned with a sneer. "Tom."  
  
*****  
  
Harry felt as if the week was going by at a snail's pace. School slipped by in slow doses. It wasn't particularly challenging, nor was it particularly easy. It wasn't fun, but it wasn't boring. Harry was indifferent about school. He went, he did his homework, took tests, and got grades. There was nothing enlightening or special about it.  
  
Except at school, he got to see Draco. They didn't act any differently with each other after Draco had asked Harry out, nor did they tell Ron, Hermione, or any of the others about it. Harry didn't know what Draco's reasons were, but he felt that he needed to take it slowly, let the fact sink in that he was gay (which they seemed to have no problem with), and then tell them. That was, of course, if this went anywhere. He and Draco might just go to dinner, talk about the past and the present, about all of their problems, and then that would be it. Harry didn't want that to happen, but he didn't want to get his hopes up and left it as a definite possibility.  
  
It was Friday night, the night before The Date. Harry walked in the house and, as usual slumped onto the couch, fully glad that his first week of school was over. Sirius walked in, drying his hands on a dishtowel.  
  
"Hey, Harry," he said, "do you have anything planned for tommorrow night? Remus and I are going to rent that movie...you know the one, about the thing at the place. With that actor, Whatshisname."  
  
"Sorry, Sirius, I can't. I have a date." He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He should have made something up. Remus scampered into the room from the kitchen, eyes glittering, eager with excitement.  
  
"Really?" he said enthusiastically. "Who?"  
  
"A guy at school," said Harry.  
  
"Really, is he cute--"  
  
Sirius cut him off. "Remus, my love, I'm going to stop you right there. This is Harry's business, not ours. And, I should let you know, I believe that you just 'scampered', which is not a good thing."  
  
"I _scampered_?" said Remus incredulously. "And what exactly is the definition of 'to scamper', Sirius?"  
  
"I'm not sure, but what you did is certainly it."  
  
"I'm going upstairs!" yelled Harry above the other two before this escalated into another one of those incredibly unbearable mock-fights between the two lovestricken men. It would be dangerous to his mental and physical health if he stayed downstairs any longer.  
  
****  
  
Saturday night finally came.  
  
Under the excuse that he was going to the library to study, Draco left his house at six thirty and pulled out of the driveway in his Mercedes SUV and drove to Harry's house, more nervous than Harry, this was the night.  
  
The drive seemed to take forever. Draco kept glancing at the clock on the dash to make sure he wasn't late. Why was he so nervous? Did he like Harry? Certainly. But could this be different from any other guy he'd ever dated? What set Harry apart from the others? Draco mulled it all over in his mind as he drove. It just didn't make any sense to him.  
  
There was something special about Harry, this much was clear. That was the only thing that Draco could put his finger on. He'd just have to wait and find out exactly what.  
  
He was startled that he'd already reached Harry's house. The drive was shorter than he'd thought it was. Draco got out of the car and turned one of the mirrors toward him, evaluating his overall appearance. He war an untucked, light yellow, long-sleeved shirt and kakhi trousers. His hair, artfully touseled, completed the look. The effect, he thought, was excellent.  
  
He walked up to the door, hesitating when he reached it. His nervousness doubled; rockets shot around in his stomach, a lump formed in his throat. Jesus Fucking Christ, what was wrong with him.  
  
He knocked on the door, once, twice. Pause. The tension mounted. Draco could feel it. He felt like he was in some sort of cheesy romantic movie, that Harry would come out, and Draco would hand him flowers and they would kiss and it would be a happy ending...to what? What had begun? Draco was confused.  
  
The door opened, and Draco gasped. Harry wore a long-sleeved black t-shirt and dark jeans. On any other person, it would have been perfectly regular, but on Harry, it was gorgeous beyond belief.  
  
"Well," said Draco, "let's go..."  
  
*****  
  
A/N...Sorry, for all three of you who care, you'll have to wait for the date itself. 


End file.
